All I want for Christmas
by lafantomette
Summary: How can drunken s... be the start of something new? Multi-Chapters. All written and will post everything before Christmas! Yeah! Darvey AF!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I wrote a one-shot called 'Love me how' a few days ago and in it, Donna recalled all the times she thought about HOW it could happen with Harvey. And one of those had Donna thinking they could have had drunken-sex, and it could have been the start of something.**

 **This fic is for Lau, who told me she'd like to read how this one would go…**

 **So here it is, it would go like this…**

 **(the story is all written down, check for the next chapters in the upcoming weeks!)**

* * *

"You should start thinking about slowing down the drinking, young man." Gretchen was looking at him, a judgmental frown across her face.

He shrugs, downing another one of those atrocious eggnog, then swiping the back of his hand on his mouth.

"Gretchen, first: you are not my mother. Second: I'm not that drunk…" he tries getting up from the chair, hitting the glass he had just put on the table in the process.

"Fuck…" he mutters trying to catch the glass and failing miserably. "Oh! It's empty! No damage done then!" he says aloud with a goofy grin.

Gretchen just looks at him, shaking her head disapprovingly.

He stands up, trying to keep his balance by grasping the chair firmly. "Okay Gretchen. Why do you care so much if I get drunk or not? This is a goddamn Christmas part and that's pretty much the only way to get through it."

Around them, people are laughing, drinking, and dancing to happy Christmas songs. He always hated Christmas parties with every fiber of his being. He tried to get out of it but Jessica insisted and, after all, he is name partner.

Gretchen grasps his elbow and talks in a low voice. "You haven't taken one of your pill?" He doesn't answer, he tries to focus on what she just said and why she is asking that. He raises an eyebrow and doesn't answer.

"You know both alcohol and anxiolytic causes cognitive impairment? And taken together it can cause a cumulative effect…"

"Cogniti…what? Why?" This discussion is getting on his nerves. He searches the room with his eyes because he's going to need something stronger than eggnog. "Gretchen. It's a party. I don't need my cognitive skills for anything tonight!" He stutters, and the room is spinning a little. "I just need to get through this party without losing my sanity."

"You haven't seen Red. YET." Gretchen says slowly so he can understand. "She'll enter the room, wearing something sexy, and you will cry that you've lost all your cognitive skills."

He rolls his eyes and begins to walk towards the table where champagne flutes are set. He thought the table was closer than this. Is that table moving or what? He sets his hands on the table and takes a few deep breaths. He tries to think: if he wants to grab a flute he has to let go of the table. What if he falls?

"Oh Harvey, I should have known you'd be a mess. You tried to get your ass out of it…" Jessica is staring down at him. How come this woman is so tall? Maybe he's leaning on the table? He's looking up at the tall woman and his eyes drift to the ceiling, where he sees the mistletoe hanging.

"There's mistletoe, should we kiss? I always thought of you as my surrogate mom… that would be so out of line…" he's not sure he said all this aloud. He starts laughing.

"You aren't getting any, white boy. I'm not old enough to be your mom, and I wouldn't want a son as problematic as you are."

So he said it aloud. Ouch. Maybe he's had a bit too much to drink. He tries to stands straighter and looks at her. "Hey what happened at us being family?"

"That's how you want to play it, Harvey?" She grasps something on the table and he can't see what it is. She's moving too fast. "Well, okay, we're family. And I just decided that you won't drink anything that contains alcohol tonight. The only thing you will be drinking tonight is this." She pushes a bottle of water in his hands. He opens it, drinking a few sips while Jessica still stares him down.

"Okay. What now Jessica?"

"You are drunker than I've ever seen you and Donna isn't even here yet…" Jessica says seriously.

"Why does everyone keeps mentioning Donna?" He tries putting the cap back on the water bottle, splashing water over his shirt. "Shit."

Jessica takes a step forward and leans closer, whispering: "Maybe because we've all noticed how you've been looking at her lately."

He swallows thickly, wondering if he should try to explain his behavior.

It's true.

Donna's words, said on the day of her resignation still resonate in his ears: 'you're capable of looking at me that way, but you don't want to let those worlds collide because you're afraid to risk anything'.

And she was gone. Working with Louis now. So he started to allow himself to think about her 'THAT way'. The first few times he dreamt about her, it was fucked up, messy, uncomfortable, and he woke up confused. And even once, she was in bed with Travis Tanner and he had to talk about it with his therapist and it was humiliating, as she connected the whole thing to his issues with his mother. But, he was doing better now. He and Donna were friends now. Thing is, he still had those dreams. No Travis Tanner this time. Just he and Donna tangled up in the sheets. Donna touching him everywhere and kissing him. Every time he wakes up from one of these dreams, he misses her touch, her perfume, the way she makes him laugh in bed…she is the only woman ever capable of doing that.

So lately, when Donna sways her hips walking to his desk handing him a file from Louis, or when he sees her in the coffee room, YES it's highly probably that he's been eye-fucking her.

"Talking about the wolf…" says Jessica her eyes fixed across the room.

Harvey turns on his heels and loses his breath.

Donna is on Rachel's arm. Both girls are giggling and wearing red Christmas hat. Donna's red hair is loose, curling over her shoulders. She is wearing a sparkly gold dress, shorter than the ones she usually wears to work, in fact the dress stops mid thighs and her legs are long for days… he absently licks his lips and grasp two champagne flutes as Jessica mutters "Fuck... Harvey. Don't. Not now."

He walks to her, his eyes fixated on her curves and her plunging neckline. He wonders if he is walking in slow-motion because walking to her seems to take forever. "Drinks for the ladies," he says handing them the flutes, trying to sound as sober as he can.

"I don't know if we should drink more," admits Rachel, always the reasonable one. "We already had way too many wine at home while doing our makeup and stuff."

"Okay then," says Donna as she downs one flute completely, then takes the other one from Harvey's hand and swallows a big gulp.

"You are…sparkly." Is all he manages to say.

"Ho… you have no idea how sparkly I am…" she says seductively while Rachel's eyes widens as she mouths to her friend "stop."

"Let me guess…you have special Christmas underwear. Because unlike me, you loooove the holidays," he counters with a grin.

She laughs. "Maybe…but don't think today is your lucky day."

Ella Fitzgerald is singing in the background. Something about a 'Winter Wonderland' and sitting by the fire and the only thing he can think of in this moment is having sex with Donna by his fireplace.

"How about you get me a drink and we continue this conversation in the corner?" she offers.

This whole conversation is reminding him of that day they met in the bar. His heart is beating out of his chest but this isn't a panic attack.

He offers her his arm, leaving Rachel standing there mouth agape. He guides her to the table where all the drinks and entrees are set. Her fingers are moving against his arm. He is sure she is drawing small circles, turning him crazy, making him warm and tingly inside. That's why they never touch.

"Another champagne? Or one of those disgusting eggnog Louis made?" he offers, not looking at her. Just another look at her in that sparkly dress and his intentions will be visibly apparent, he's sure of it. "Eggnog." She replies.

He decides to ignore the mistletoe above their head. He can't kiss her there and now, this whole thing would most certainly turn into a wildly inappropriate event.

"Talking about Louis, have you seen him?" she asks, her eyes searching the room.

"Believe me, he's there. He hugged me. He was wearing one of those ugly Christmas sweater, had real lights on it. Scary." Harvey says hissing.

"You don't like Christmas apparels of any sorts?" she tilts her head, making the pompom of her Christmas hat fall in her face. Without thinking he pushes the pompom, his thumb grazing her cheek. He's sure he feels her shivers under his touch. "No, I just don't like them on Louis," he says. For a moment they just stare at each other. He knows he drank too much but all it did is lowers his inhibitions. He's always wanted her. Now he just feels game enough to act on it.

'

* * *

'

The way he's been looking at her lately is overwhelming. She noticed, she isn't blind. The way he looks at her tonight is on a whole other level. He practically peeled her clothes off with his gaze when she entered the room. She shouldn't have drank that much before coming to this party. Harvey Specter has always been her weakness. All she feels right now is raw desire. Not that she is against it… She hasn't had sex in a few months. Mitchell was a lazy fuck and she realized they weren't meant to be when she brought whipped cream in the bedroom and he said that was the most disgusting idea ever. She can't live without fun.

But she has to keep herself under check. Harvey and her, they are friends now. She doesn't want to ruin what they have, whatever they have is. Right now, what they are is two friends who flirt like on the first day they met.

They are standing in the corner of the room, Sinatra playing. Mike just said some joke that she can't even understand and Rachel rolls her eyes. Donna's eyes are fixated on Harvey. His back is against the wall, probably to keep his balance. The way his suit fits him...she'd like to touch him. He looks dashing, humming Sinatra and taking another sip of champagne. He sees her looking at him and he winks at her. "Another champagne, milady?"

Her throat is dry. She definitely had too much to drink already so what the heck. "Yeah, sure Harvey." Rachel says things Donna can't even comprehend and Mike kisses his fiancée. Donna feels Harvey's hand on her back, she turns around and he's too close, his cologne invading her senses. She realizes how bad she wants him. She can't. This nonsense has to stop. She takes the champagne from his hand, mouths a weak 'thanks' as he walks around her, resting his back against the wall again, bottle of water in hands. He focuses on Mike and Rachel and whatever they are saying. Great. That means she can stare at him again without him noticing. Her eyes rest on his shoulders for a few seconds, slowly following his arm and then the sleeve of his shirt. His initials embroidered on the cuffs of his white shirt. She lets her eyes wanders to his hands… his long fingers. Dammit. She remembers he wasn't a lazy fuck like Mitchell. He really knew how to use his hands. He was a giver, he was good, the bastard.

Champagne always had that effect on her. Bad choice. REALLY bad choice of beverage.

She's confused. She is still fixated on his hands as he moves one to push the pompom of her hat, again. If she feels his warm fingers against her skin one more time, she doesn't know how she will be able to stop herself from doing things she most definitely will regret.

"I miss you." He says out of nowhere. She is surprised.

"I'm right here. There's nothing to be missed, Harvey." She does what she's best at, deflecting, taking another sip of champagne.

"I'm seeing a therapist, but you probably know that already…" he says quietly.

"Yeah, I met her. Lovely lady."

He furrows his eyebrows. "You what? When? Where?"

"Doesn't matter. The important thing is that you are seeing a therapist."

"We talked about my mother, it was hard…But I understand now…" he says pensively.

"Shit. You are a boring drunk." She laughs.

"Okay then, enough about me. Let's talk about you."

"Oooh. My favorite subject!" she says laughing.

It feels like déja-vu. They've had this conversation before… when they met.

He's playing with his water bottle, making it turns in his hands. She can read the tells: he's trying to keep his hands busy so he won't touch her. She wonders if he remembers. If he will go THERE.

After a moment he looks at her, his brown eyes boring into hers, making her heart flutters but it might be the champagne.

"You want something…" he begins.

"I sure do Harvey," she says without hesitation.

He leans toward her, his breath tickling her cheek. "…And I think I might be ready to give it to you."

He remembers.

She feels his hand around her wrist, a move warm and subtle. To everyone else in the room it must be them just talking, like they always do. Nothing more.

His voice is warm. Inviting. The champagne is running through her veins. She can't resist and she replies while batting her eyelashes at him.

"Yes, Harvey. I want to work ON your desk."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for your kind reviews guys *blushes*. Okay I'm warning you: they are totally doing it in this chapter so if you are not into Darvey action (LOL) well, sorry this chapter isn't for you. After all, this fic is my little Christmas gift to my Darvey army (-:**

* * *

Even in his drunken state he can't help but think how they are the perfect Christmas office party cliché. Both drunk, skipping the party to have sex on his desk. But he isn't her boss anymore and she was always more than a secretary to him anyway.

He's kissing her as she is sitting on his desk, one of his hand holding her arm like he's afraid she might get away any minute, his other hand in her décolleté cupping her breast. She wraps her legs around her waist, shamelessly pressing her lower body against him. He sneaks a hand under her dress. Her very short dress. His thumb grazes her panties. "Satin?" he smirks. "Let me guess…red. To match the Christmas hat."

"Don't you just loooove Christmas, don't you?" she purrs just before kissing his neck, her hands grasping his shoulders firmly not to lose her balance.

"Yes, I want you to keep the hat on…" he begs in a needy voice, immediately realizing how the alcohol makes him stupidly vulnerable. He feels exactly like the first time he had sex. His fingers touching the satin panties almost made him lose it. It's ridiculous.

He's drunk, he's not even sure he will be good at it while being so drunk. One part of him regrets drinking that much, because his fingertips are numb and there is nothing he'd want more than to feel and remember this moment clearly forever. Of course, he also knows damn well he wouldn't have dared flirt with her that much if he would have been sober.

But he's touching her and kissing her, and the moans coming out of her sweetly parted pink lips seem to indicate he's doing okay so far. She's beautiful and her cheeks are flushed, he's not sure if it is the champagne or because he's doing everything right. He feels her grasp tightening around his neck and her breaths becoming heavier. She moans and thrusts against him and he's so ready.

"Hmmm…Harvey do you have…?"

His eyes snaps opened. No, he doesn't.

"Fuck." He pretty much cries.

She disconnects from him, letting her legs fall down the desk, her hands grasping the corners. "You've got to be kidding me!" Her voice is high-pitched, and desperate. He wonders if she will start to cry. Obviously she wants this as much as he wants it.

He takes a step back and stumbles, quickly reaching for her hand. "Donna. I didn't expect…THIS," he stutters, gesturing to her and the desk.

She shakes her head, stands up and takes the champagne from the desk. Downs the drink. "Take me back to your place, Specter."

'

* * *

'

They are both drunk.

She isn't sure he is as drunk as she is. She feels like everything is rushed and in slow-motion at the same time, she's dizzy. As soon as he closes the door behind them he kicks off his shoes and removes his jacket, throwing everything on the floor, something that is so not him. He usually hangs his jacket even drunk, or stone.

She is staring at his Tom Ford jacket on the floor when he corners her against his kitchen counter, kissing her hungrily as he unzips her dress. He leaves trails of wet kisses on her shoulders and breast, his tongue is warm on her skin and she feels all funny inside. She could blame the alcohol but she knows this feeling is only the result of twelve years of all work no play. She likes how his usually clean-shaved skin now tickles her jaw and cheek, reminding her how he probably didn't even care shaving for that dumb party. He always hated Christmas parties but she is pretty sure right now, her hand stroking his pants, she's making him change his mind. She fumbles with the buttons of his shirt and then stops herself, inhaling deeply, feeling totally overwhelmed by something she can't even describe. "Keep your shirt on," she asks, her hand flattening against his torso. "When your hands touch me I want to see your cuffs, with your initials…" She immediately regret saying this and she even feels tears in her eyes. She has to remind herself that this is sex. They are going to have sex and that's it. He's just giving her what she needs and wants, because Mitchell was a lousy fuck. Nothing more.

She sees his eyes searching hers, and when they lock their gaze she sees something that scares her. She's drunk. She's not sure she understands… He is smiling at her and she doesn't want to mistake this for love "Only if you wear the Christmas hat…" he replies. She laughs. "Harvey, you already said that."

He laughs and says "Oops. Well, I'm drunk." She feels his fingers against her bare back and realizes he had pushed her dress down. He takes a step backward his eyes not leaving hers as he unbuckles his pants, letting them fall on the kitchen floor. He's wearing simple white boxer. She puts her hands around his neck. "Ohhh no special boxers for the holidays…Such a deception," she mocks him.

Harvey puts his hands around her waist, pulling her closer. "Guess what?" his speech is slurred, his words stumbling out of his mouth unevenly. "The holiday special is in my boxers…" he whispers half-smiling. She starts laughing, hitting him lightly on the chest. It's fun. That's how she always remembered their whipped cream night: fun.

He presses his body against hers, and she feels it. His hands hot against her skin, his blood pulsating through his body. She wonders if any of them will remember any of this tomorrow. She is still laughing, awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

He swallows her laughs by kissing her again, this time his hands cupping her face. The air around her is all him. His signature cologne, plus champagne, and it is intoxicating and she can't think straight. They kiss all the way to his bedroom.

She is confused. She is pretty sure he is too because he struggles with opening the condom wrapper with his fingers and then his teeth, whining in exasperation, and she helps him because she just can't wait anymore. All she feels is his mouth covering hers, his lips searching she doesn't know what exactly. He sits on top of her, legs on her sides. She is suddenly intimidated by the way he's looking at her, he is serious and focused only on her. He pushes his hands against her curves, caressing her breasts and she grasps one of his wrist and sees his initials: H.S.

This is real. They are doing this. He leans on her, his body perfectly molded against her. His dark brown eyes are red-rimmed, she hopes it is the alcohol, she doesn't want too much emotions… She feels like his eyes are boring into her soul and he bites his lips, trying to stop himself from saying something but after a beat he shakes his head and cups her face in his hands. "Donna, you are beautiful," he whispers on her lips. Her heart jumps. This is unexpectedly sweet. He gently grabs her hand, linking their fingers. "Fuck. Donna…" He closes his eyes, and rests his forehead on hers. "You know I love you so much…" He pushes inside her before she has time to ask what he means.

After that, everything is a blur.

It is him holding her while she moves on top of him in a way she didn't think she was capable of.

It is her, digging her nails in his skin when his body is flushed against her and he hits the spot once, twice, making her shouting his name like an ode, an unspoken permission for him to join her in pure ecstasy. Completely spent, he lies on his side, wrapping his arms around her. "Merry Christmas, Donna," he says almost inaudibly.

'

* * *

'

The first thing he feels is a fucking headache. The worse he's ever had in his whole damn life.

Okay. Gretchen was right. Mixing his meds with alcohol was a bad idea. He opens his eyes and he catches a glimpse of red.

Donna is in his bed.

He's wearing his shirt but he is not wearing boxers. He sees the box of condoms on his night table and a Christmas hat. His heart starts racing.

He had sex with Donna.

Memories from last night come rushing back and he can't help but smile. He feels like a kid on Christmas morning. But is it Christmas yet? Today is the 21st? Or maybe the 23rd? He can't remember… The daylight hurts but he still tries to keep his eyes half-opened as his hand reaches for her body, her white skin covered in freckles so warm and soft under his hand. He painfully moves closer, spooning her, his arm heavy over her. He feels warm, he falls asleep again.

"Hmmm…Morning beautiful," he mumbles in his pillow.

His hands brushes the place next to him and he snaps his eyes opened: he's alone. She's gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: HoHoHo! No I haven't forgotten you all, and yes yes yes all this story will be posted before Christmas. Happy Holidays!**

* * *

Her mom was going to pick her up at the train station in Syracuse.

The ride from Penn Station to Syracuse took about five hours. She spent most of those hours either sleeping or overthinking, still hungover from the night before.

She had sex with Harvey.

She woke up in his bed this morning, his arm heavy on her stomach and she tried to make sense of what happened but couldn't. She liked feeling his warmth against her, his regular breaths in her neck… But she wasn't going to make a fool out of herself by thinking this is love.

Harvey didn't do "feelings". Harvey has sex with women on a regular basis, even Louis' sister, and that's it. Of course, she knows she's more than any woman to him, he does care about her, but there was no way in hell they could make progress out of what happened last night. She knew that waking up tangled up in his arms would certainly not help salvage the remains of their friendship. She took the high road by avoiding the awkward morning after discussion between two friends who made a mistake. She left and it was the right thing to do.

She couldn't remember much about last night. She was left with the general impression that she liked it, A LOT. She could only remember small parts…

First, how he flirted with her like the first time they met.

How having his body pressed against hers felt. She remembers his pants on the kitchen floor and his hands burning her skin (she prays they didn't do it against the kitchen counter, without protection…she can't remember but she feels a bruise on her back, where the counter probably hit her).

But most of all, there is one thing that she can't make sense of. One thing she isn't sure if it is the product of her imagination, or…did he say he loves her?

She had left him to work for Louis exactly because she didn't want things like this to happen. She did it to protect herself from Harvey Specter.

And there she was, her forehead pressed against the train window, crying over this goddamn son of bitch.

'

* * *

'

She had left her Christmas hat on his table. That's the only tell that it wasn't a dream, because frankly, he's been dreaming about Donna in his bed recurrently for the past few months. He definitely had sex with her. He was an idiot. He could always blame the alcohol. He could always blame the anxiolytic.

But to be fair, he's only human. He had kept himself in check for more than twelve years. With how beautiful she is, it was quite a miracle.

The thing is, he wants a relationship with her. As his secretary, as his friend, as his confident. But most of all, he wants to be in a romantic relationship with her. He wants to fall asleep with her and wake up snuggled next to her every morning. He wants to make her mad because there is nothing hotter than when she is trying to make a point and he wants to patch things up with post-fight sex. He wants to tease her and tickle her until she begs him to stop. He wants to watch movies with her head on his chest and his arms around her. He wants to eat shitty Thai food with her and go to Del Posto more than once a year, just because they feel like it.

He wants everything.

He's just not sure she wants everything too. He asked, once, before she left. But they were fighting and it wasn't the best timing in the world and when he thinks about it, why would someone like HER wants everything from someone like HIM?

His heart sinks when he remembers his own words: '…I think I might be ready to give it to you'. He's pretty sure he said that to her. She probably woke up thinking that the only thing he wanted to give her was sex. Of course, having sex with her while drunk certainly didn't give her the best impression on how much he had changed lately. He can't remember much from last night. It is so hard to make sense of everything when you can't tell dreams from reality… He is sitting on his bed, head in his hands, when suddenly he remembers a tiny detail. His eyes snap open and he sees the initials on the cuff of his shirt. Maybe it was more than sex for her too?

'

* * *

'

She will never tell anybody but last night, she fell asleep in her childhood bed, crying and hugging her old teddy bear. When she wakes up it is a new day and she feels strong and ready to move on.

Her old jeans, the one she wore when she was seventeen and broke up with that dumb boyfriend of hers, they still fit. So really, she couldn't ask for more.

She wraps her hair up into a high ponytail, she puts on light makeup and she likes what she is seeing. She is okay. Harvey Specter can go to hell. She is a strong woman and she just wanted sex and she could always blame Mitchell. If he would have been a better lover none of this would have happened. Everything is going to be alright.

"Good morning!" she says cheerfully, going down the stairs leading her to the dining room. Her mom, a bit shorter than her, graying auburn locks tied into a loose bun, is busy in the kitchen.

"Good morning baby girl," says her mom handing her a cup of coffee. "I made pancakes, your favorite." Her mom gives her a scrutinizing look. "You looked so down yesterday. I'm happy to see you feel better."

Donna sits at the table. "Where's dad?" Her mom places a plate in front of her and Donna immediately takes a bite of pancakes. "You know your dad… He's outside adding a few last minutes Christmas decorations before your brother arrives…"

Her mom sits. Staring at her. Donna knows the questions are coming.

"So, how's Harvey?"

Donna swallows a bite of pancake, trying to look unfazed. "Good."

"I really liked him, you know…" adds her mom carefully.

"Good."

"Nice man, very polite." Donna can feel her mom studying her reactions.

"Really handsome man too... "

"Good."

Her mom shakes her head. "Don't tell me everything is GOOD, Donna. I know you. What's wrong baby?"

She knows her mom won't let go. She has to say something.

"I don't work with Harvey anymore, mom. I moved on…to another desk. I'm working with someone else at the firm now." She looks at her mom who seems in shock. "It's for the better mom! I needed better work condition. Working with Harvey was exhausting. Now I come home early…"

"You slept together…" gasps her mom. "You slept together or one of you said some things… and had an argument about it and you left." Her mom quickly puts her hand over her mouth, shocked by her own conclusions.

Donna puts her fork on the table. "Geez mom! I didn't! Why are you saying this?"

"Because you've always had something special with him…It was obvious. When we stayed at his condo we could see it. The way he looked at you…"

Donna's heart sinks. She decides to ignore this as she focuses on her half-eaten pancake, taking the fork in her hand. "Your pancakes are delicious mom, thanks."

Her mom catches her hand tightly and begins: "You think you are such a good actress, don't you?" Her mom shakes her head. "Donna… Maybe you fooled all Manhattan and even him, but you never fooled me. If he ever wants in…maybe you should consider letting your guards down baby. You're getting hurt anyway, might as well try something…"

'

* * *

'

He'd always hated driving in the snow. He was tired and so glad that this four hour drive was coming to an end. But she told him before how she was sick of watching him fight for everything that happens at the firms and nothing that happens in his heart. He was tired of running away from his feelings. It was time to do something.

He parks his car in front of the Paulsen's house and gets out, his city shoes slipping on the ground as he catches his balance, putting a hand on his car. He's surprised at how much snow there is on the ground. He carefully walks to the door and sees inside the living room. Donna's family is there. There are Christmas lights everywhere and kids laughing. It's everything he's been missing all his life, everything he tried to keep at arm's length while he could have had it all.

He takes a deep breath, and musters the courage to knock firmly on the door.

The door opens and he sees Donna's dad who can't hide his surprise. "Harvey! We didn't expect you…" The man's tone change. "If you are here to drag our daughter back to work let me tell you right now…" Harvey laughs politely. "No. I'm here…to wish you a happy Christmas! And give something to Donna."

"Is my daughter expecting you?" says the old man more quietly taking a step outside.

"No she isn't…" But I really need to talk to her."

The old man starts: "Harvey. I've always liked you…"

Harvey automatically feels his hands balling into fist: he can't say the feeling is mutual. He knows Donna loves her dad but he can't help himself, he always had a problem with men who hurt Donna –no matter if it was intentional or not- , and he always had a lingering feeling that Donna's insecurities may stem from her dad's losing the family's money.

"But let me tell you, Harvey," continues Mr. Paulsen. "If you make my daughter cry on Christmas Eve I'm going to use all the energy that is left in me to beat the living shit out of you."

Harvey nods. "Understood."

The old man opens the door widely and Harvey's steps in. He removes his coat and takes something from the inside pocket. He then put the coat on the bench with the other coats. He follows the man into the living.

Donna is there, kneeling in front of the Christmas tree, a small boy on her knees. He figures the little redhead boy must be a nephew, or a cousin. He realizes she knows everything about him but he doesn't know everything about her…

"Harvey!" says Donna's mom. He sees her making a move to welcome him and sees her stop. Years of analyzing people tell him that woman knows something. Not good.

Donna turns around and he makes a small wave gesture. "You've got to be kidding me!" she says angrily.

She gets up, as family members have stopped talking. "I can't believe you asked poor Ray to drive you all the way up to Cortland on Christmas Eve!"

"No. I drove here. Donna…" He lowers his voice as she is now closer. He feels all the eyes fixated on them. "We need to talk."

"No we don't. For you Christmas is over. Whoosh." She makes a gesture. "It's over Harvey. I work for Louis now…"

He takes a step toward her and puts in her hands the folded red Christmas hat, the one she forgot at his condo. She looks at him in disbelief.

"Donnaaaa," he begs quietly. "Please. We need to talk."

"We don't have to talk, because there is nothing to talk about." she replies louder.

He looks around. He catches her dad's gaze and he's pretty sure the old man is a few seconds away from kicking him out.

"Donna, I drove more than four hours in the snow," he says between his teeth. "Just give me five minutes, please," he begs one last time.

"Okay. Five minutes and that's it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Penultimate chapter guys! Only one to go, and Christmas is soon. Don't worry I will keep my promise and publish the last chapter before Christmas! I hope you will enjoy this one!**

 _PS: to Mr or Mrs Guest who left a review:, first of all, I'm sorry you left a review under 'guest' because I can't send you a direct message then, and my other readers probably know by now that I do reply to messages! I'm glad you said you enjoy my stories, thanks, but I have to say I am quite surprised you said I'm using big words... especially since I asked my kiddo about that specific word you mentioned (anxiolytic) and she replied that since it sounds like 'anxious' it is probably a med for anxiety...?_

 _...And NO: I am NOT looking to get into the publishing world. I do this only for FUN, to make my friends and fellow Suits fans smile. Nothing more. It isn't dead-serious, I write this while drinking coffee and eating cupcakes. So please, read this while doing same!_ **(-:**

 **Dear readers, thanks for all your messages, I love reading you all! Happy Holidays!**

* * *

She directs him to the kitchen and he is afraid he might lose his bravado, especially now that she is staring him down, her back against the kitchen counter, a different kitchen counter, but it still brings back memories from that hot night they had. Dear god, that part wasn't a dream, now he's sure of it: he remembers kissing her half-naked against the kitchen counter. He feels hot under the collar. He also would like to be farther from the living room. He's pretty sure her whole family is listening right now.

She crosses her arms. "You have five minutes. Starting now."

He swallows and starts. "So yesterday morning I woke up and you weren't there…"

"Yes we had sex and I left. What's the big deal?" His heart sinks.

He tilts his head and looks at her. So she has decided to play this card?

He's not backing off this time. He's nervous and feels like throwing up. He licks his lips and takes all the courage inside him and finally say it:

"The big deal is that I love you Donna... And you left."

She laughs forcedly. "Oh please! You love SEX. You wanted sex. You had it. That's it, Harvey. It's over. Now we can both move on, and for good this time!"

He takes a step toward her, he grabs her left forearm in his right hand. "I don't think you took what I said seriously when I told you two adults who care about each other don't move on at all. Donna, I meant it. I don't want to move on from you." He shakes his head slowly. "Never."

He holds his breath, and a few seconds seem like forever…

'

* * *

'

It's not like him to do things like this. Cortland isn't anywhere near New York City and the roads were certainly horrible. He evidently was still tired from the party and the drinking and all the sex they had (even if she can barely remember it). The lines around his eyes are a sure tell. But he still did it: he still drove more than two hundred miles to see her and talk to her. She promised herself she would be strong. She promised herself she was done with Harvey Specter…

Then he said it: 'I don't want to move on from you. Never.'

She just stares at him, not even blinking. He takes another step and she wants to take a step back, but the kitchen counter stops her. He unexpectedly wraps his arms around her, and rest his forehead against hers. "Donna…please say something."

She remembers what her mom said, about letting her guards down.

"I'm scared…" she admits in a low voice.

"Don't you think I'm not?" he replies. "I'm terrified of screwing this. You always were the only good thing in my life, my 'everything'. That's why I was always scared of risking anything…"

She laughs but tears are rolling down her cheeks. "Not reassuring…"

He kisses her wet skin, then swipes his thumbs across her cheeks. "I realized you are the only one worth fighting for. Always were…Always will."

"Would you go out on a date with me?" Harvey asks after a moment.

She looks at him, amused. "How old are we, really Harvey? I feel like I'm in high school. That feels so formal…"

"Should I ask your dad then?" he adds smirking.

"Don't," she says smiling at him. "I agree to give this a try…We'll go on a date when we'll go back to Manhattan." She absently runs her hands up on his arms, until she reaches his shoulders and stops there. He stiffens under her touch. "I don't want us to try…I want us to work. Donna, I NEED us to work." He wraps his arms around her body, pulling her into a hug. His chin on her neck, her mouth on his shoulder.

"Donna, I can't see why we wouldn't…" she hears him say, his voice comforting her. "We always 'worked'. Since we've met."

They hug for a few minutes, the hug having a calming effect on both of them. She realizes she likes everything about him: the warmth of his arms around her, the way his hands caress her back, how she can feel his heart beating against her chest. She likes how stubborn he is, she likes that under his cockiness is a man who cares, and yes his arrogance makes her laugh, somehow. She loves the good and the bad. She can't deny the attraction and the love she always felt for him. She is tired of this game…

She lets her lips softly kiss his neck. She lets herself inhale the scent of him. She licks her lips and she can taste his skin…

She isn't expecting it but he cups her face with his hands and presses his lips on hers. The kiss is soft and tentative, the complete opposite of what happened last night. She parts her lips allowing his tongue into his mouth. His tongue his moist and warm and he tastes like the coffees he probably had on the road. She hums against his lips while her hands play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. He gently stops the kiss and rests his forehead on hers. "Your whole family is listening from the other room and I'm genuinely scared your dad is going to kill me."

'

* * *

'

Donna's dad did send him a few death glares when he entered the living room holding his daughter's hand. But Donna's was all smile and the whole family acted like nothing happened.

Or if something that should have happened a long time ago FINALLY happened. Her mom always liked him like family anyway. She probably always knew what her own daughter couldn't figure out.

"I love seeing the snow falls…there is nothing more magical than having snow on Christmas…" The lights in her childhood bedroom are turned off. She is standing in front of the window looking outside, wearing something far from being sexy. A strange red and green flannel pyjamas. She reminds him of a candy cane. She is still the most wonderful woman he's ever seen.

She turns around and rolls her eyes, smiling at the man sitting on her bed. "Stop looking at me like that!"

He gets up, eyeing her up and down, smirking. He starts to laugh. "Not my fault you look like a delicious candy cane in that outfit…" Harvey wraps his arms around her, gradually pulling her close. Their noses are almost touching and her breath is warm on his face. She sneaks a hand between them, caressing his skin under his shirt, her fingers slowly skim the muscles of his chest. He tries to catch her gaze in the darkness and he sees her eyes shining in excitement, her lips curled into a grin. He raises his eyebrows and whispers: "Donna…we aren't going to do it in your childhood bedroom." He takes a deep breath and adds reluctantly "…your parents in the other room?" She doesn't reply and trails her lips from his chin to his neck, leaving light kisses until she reaches the spot between his neck and shoulder. Her lips are soft, so soft…He wants to tell her they can't do this but his hands push under the top of her pyjamas on their own accord, craving to touch her skin. She presses her lips more firmly on his skin, sucking his flesh and he realizes she's giving him a hickey. He feels very hot, his shirt is sticking to his back.

"Donna…" he objects weakly without any conviction. "I…I'm…" She stops sucking his flesh and leaves a few kisses on his bruised skin. Her thumb strokes one of his nipple and he digs his fingertips in her back, swallowing a groan in his throat. Her parents are in the bedroom a few feet from here. If they burst into the room there is no way he will be able to hide the problem he's having in his pants right now.

"Donna!" he whispers again. His voice is a warning she's going to end him before they really start… He feels her grinning in his neck and hears her soft chuckles. Her body is flush against him and he knows she is fully aware of the effect she has on him. "I wanted to leave you with something to think about until our date," Donna whispers in his ear. "You can sleep on the couch." She leaves a kiss on his cheek and he shakes his head, walking toward the door. He stops, his hand on the doorknob and asks suddenly "Do you have a blanket?"

"There's one on the couch," she replies.

"I…am…I can't…" He exhales loudly. "Donna. I can't go out of the room like…" He feels ridiculous. He's not sixteen, he's mid-forty dammit! He makes a shy gesture to his pants.

"Oh…" She starts giggling. "I don't have one. But you do need a pillow." She grabs a pillow from her bed. "There…" He takes a step back when she gives him the pillow, afraid that one touch from her would turn into another make out session. He quickly gets out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I have to admit I'm a bit overwhelmed by all the interest this story has sparked! I just want to remind you guys, I'm doing this for fun. If you don't like it, there are amazing stories written by some darn talented people on FF and A03 and feel free to read them. I'm sure you'll find one that Suits (ha-ha! see what I did there?) your need and wishes. That being said, I do appreciate your comments and reviews a lot, just don't think I'm doing this with any professional intentions ok? Far from it. I'm just a poor little Darvey fan like you, trying to cope while waiting for her OTP to be canon... LOL

Thanks for reading and...MERRY CHRISTMAS! xoxo Fantomette

* * *

"Harvey, do you want French toasts?" He opens his eyes. Donna's mom is standing next to the couch where he slept, grinning at him.

"It's almost 10, you might want to get up…"

"What?" He quickly sits and automatically feels a sharp pain in his shoulder. He winces in pain, his hand reaching for his shoulder.

"I'm sorry we didn't have an extra bed," adds Mrs. Paulsen. "We weren't expecting you."

He really doesn't know how to answer that, his fingers trying to untie the knot in his shoulder. "Well…" he starts but the explanation dies in his throat. Their story is too complicated but somehow it all makes sense, everything leading to that. "It was time," Harvey simply says.

She smiles. "I have to admit... After all this time, I got scared you both had given up."

"Never." He's sincere: she is his everything, she is the person that makes him a better man, she is the only person he always needed and will always need in his life. "Not a chance."

* * *

The first thing she notices when she sees him coming into the dining room, is how his clothes are wrinkled. Meaning, he didn't bring extra clothes and probably didn't think this little trip through. Yesterday he must have woke up alone in his bed with an urgency to see her. She'd always wanted him to fight for her and driving all the way to Cortland from Manhattan, tired and hungover, probably fits the deal.

"Merry Christmas," he says cheerfully but his voice still sleepy.

"Merry Christmas Harvey," she replies. The second thing she notices is his ruffled hair and how handsome he is as he sits across the table from her and offers her a shy smile. She's a grown woman and she isn't ashamed of admitting she can't wait to have sex with him and this time she won't drink, wanting to remember every tiny detail.

She sees Harvey getting tensed as soon as her dad sits next to him. "Slept well?" asks her dad reaching for the coffee pot.

"Not bad." Harvey avoids his gaze and slightly turns to reach the plate of warm French toasts in the middle of the table. He puts a toast on his plate and his other hand quickly moves to his neck, fingertips rubbing the skin like something there is bothering him.

That's when she notices it.

The big "love bite" she gave him last night.

She had no idea the bruise from that hickey would be that big. There is no way her dad won't notice. She could say she regrets doing it but no she doesn't. It was in the heat of the moment, they couldn't have sex and she really wanted to taste him and yeah, she has to admit it, teased him. Maybe unconsciously, after seeing him parading with all these women that weren't her, she also needed to claim him?

She tries to catch his gaze across the table, wanting him to start thinking about some excuse so he'd be ready when her dad proceeds with the questioning.

He finally locks eyes with her and he smiles at her lovingly. Fuck. Obviously his mind-reading skills are off this morning. She coughs and taps her index on her own neck as she sees him raising his eyebrows.

"Did you sleep on the couch son?" asks her dad. The tone of his voice is accusatory.

"Yes he did," replies Mrs. Paulsen impatiently before Harvey even opens his mouth. "Robert give them a break." The older woman sighs loudly and sits down, putting another plate of French toasts on the table.

"I just wanted to know…" the old man groans.

"You wanted to know if he slept in your daughter's bedroom, she isn't a little girl anymore Robert! You know she's not a virgin anymore!" Donna's mom is exasperated. "He didn't! I checked. Nothing happened under your roof."

"May I have the Maple syrup, please?" Harvey asks trying to divert the conversation. "Sorry, I can't reach it. I think I made my old shoulder injury worse yesterday when I hit myself with the snow scraper." He slowly bends one arm, rubbing between his shoulder and neck. Donna tries not to laugh.

Robert stops eating and looks at him, analyzing him. "You what?"

Harvey takes another bite of French toast, unimpressed. "At one point I stopped for coffee on the road and when I got back to the car I had to scrap the windows…Snow. Ice." He drinks a gulp of coffee, taking his time with the story.

"…you know, usually I have a chauffeur so…anyway I slipped and almost fell so the scrapper hit me right in the neck." He points to his neck. "It hurts so much."

Donna feels Harvey's foot hitting her lightly under the table, as for saying 'please stop laughing.

"Were you planning on driving back today, Harvey?" asks Donna's mom.

"Yes, of course there are probably a few clients who want me to…"

"You aren't working on Christmas day!" Her mom gasps. "…stay!"

"Have you taken a look outside?" says Donna pointing to the window.

He didn't see it until now, preoccupied by the pain in his shoulders and the one making the skin of his neck burn. Well, in fact he can't see a thing outside.

It's all…white.

He gets up and walks to the patio door, looking through the large glass window.

"You are definitely staying here tonight," says Donna. "But this time I'll sleep on the couch…"

He turns around, biting his tongue not to reply something dirty in front of her parents. "Is there a coffee shop or a restaurant opened today? I need to take someone out on a date…"

* * *

They thought it could be fun to walk in the snow. The small diner she thought would be open is less than 5 miles from her house, a reasonable walk when there's clement weather. Not so when it's below freezing point and snowing so much you can't see where you put your feet.

They are happy when they finally open the door and are welcomed by warmth and a friendly face.

"Donna Paulsen! It's been a while!" says a blonde, petite woman, probably around the same age Donna is. She rubs her hands on her apron before pulling Donna into a friendly hug.

"Liza! How are things?"

Years of studying his secretary make it obvious for Harvey that this woman must have been a close friend, and one Donna liked a lot. There is an immediate unspoken chemistry between the two women. He can't help notice how the friend arches her eyebrows looking at Donna with insistence before she continues and asks: "…and this is?"

"My…" Donna hesitates.

"Harvey! I'm Harvey Specter," says Harvey seeing her struggling with words. "Nice to meet you Liza, you two are old friends?" He can't help but smile at how flustered Donna is. He has to admit he's not sure what they are either.

"So YOU are Harvey…" Liza replies with a grin that says it all. Fuck. He now wonders what the hell Donna told her. "Yes we go waaaay back!" says Liza.  
"We met in fourth grade. We both wanted the same role in the school play. Of course she got it! She always was the actress I was just competitive."

"How are Tom and the kids? Is he still teaching at the University?" asks Donna.

"Yeah, and the kids are great. Max started playing hockey and Mabel is still taking piano lessons! They both are doing so well in school…"

"I'm glad to see you here!" Donna squeezes her friend's hand. "I didn't expect to see you, I thought you cut down hours with the kids in school and all."

"I did. I hired new employees but I like working on Christmas day. I know, it sounds strange," she laughs. "But people come in, some are lonely, others aren't. They tell me their stories…"

She looks at Harvey then Donna and adds. "So…can I ask if…" She stops waiting for Donna's admission.

Donna rolls her eyes. "Well…he isn't my boss anymore."

"Oh!" the friend giggles. "I see…" She looks up and down at Harvey. "No offense, you look better in person."

He chokes on his own saliva. He's pretty sure she knows everything about him and that his own face has turned red. It's weird that he can deal with difficult clients but feels like he doesn't stand a chance against Donna and her friend.

"Can we take the table in the corner?" asks Donna.

The friend nods. "Yeah, sure."

They remove their coats and hang them near the table, then sit down across from each other.

"So," Harvey says opening the menu. "Your friend Liza…"

Donna sighs. "Yes. She is that kind of friend."

Harvey looks uncomfortable. "She knows we…?"

"She knows about 'The Other time'. Not this time. I haven't told anybody about this time." She avoids his gaze, and hides behind her menu.

He shifts in his seats and pushes his fingers through his hair. His hair is all wet even though he wore a hat and it's going in all directions now.

"So here we are," he says at last.

"Here we are," she says her voice a bit breathless. She clearly has no idea what he means.

He waits.

"You should try the apple pie, it's excellent." She tries to divert.

He puts down the menu and shakes his head. "You are not taking me seriously. Donna…You know that it isn't apple pie I want, I want…"

"Harvey," she interjects urgently. "In that restaurant! Really?" She smiles at him and he feels her foot brushing across his ankle seductively. Something bubbles in his stomach and he knows what desire feels like but it's overwritten by the sharp sinking pain he has around his heart.

She doesn't get it.

Donna is not taking him seriously.

"To talk!" Harvey says in exasperation. "We need to talk."

She looks at him confused and visibly hurt.

He nervously rubs his hands on his face. "Sorry. Donna, I'm so sorry," he looks taken aback by himself and the tone he just used. He looks at her, his eyes soft. "I didn't mean to snap at you." He takes a deep breath. "I'm seeing a therapist…"

She smiles at him. "I feel like we had this conversation before."

"Maybe we did. We were drunk. I feel we should have it again…"

"I met her." She grabs his hand on the table, her hand still cold from their little walk.

He rolls his eyes. "Okay we definitely had this conversation before. Ask me something you don't know then."

"At the party," her face flickers with a smile. "Did you plan…"

"No! Donna. I…" He breaks off for a moment, wondering if it is too soon. But it's been twelve years and if he wants this, really wants this, she should know everything so he starts. "Truth?"

She nods approvingly.

* * *

She can't remember the last time she saw him that nervous and vulnerable. She feels like this is even more serious than last night when he finally admitted his feelings. His voice is shaking and he's looking down at the table, avoiding her gaze. She is not used to this. Her heart flutters: she is his weakness. 'Caring only makes you weak' he used to say.

She squeezes his hand with affection, showing her support.

"What happened is this. You went to work for Louis. And you were right, I looked at you that way. In fact…" He glances at her. "I wanted you. A lot. I had dreams about you…"

"Dreams?" This is getting interesting.

He laughs. "Please don't make me say it." Harvey's forehead crinkles funnily. "But I woke up from those dreams VERY confused. In one of those, you even were in bed with Tanner."

"Travis? Travis Tanner? Handsome jerk Travis?"

"…and you are calling him Travis now?" he mocks her. "I had to talk to my therapist about it. To make a long story short. I dealt with some issues… and my dreams started being more…" He tilts his head. "Explicit."

"Hmmm…Go on," she says grinning.

"I woke up from those dreams missing your touch and all of you…I really wanted you."

"You are so honest," she leans forward intently.

He shrugs. "So yes, at the party, truth is I really wanted to have sex with you…"

"So you two ready to order?" asks Liza cheerfully, making them jump in their seats and retreat their hands under the table. They both turn red as neither of them saw her coming. She must have heard.

"Can I offer you our delicious coconut pie? It comes with whipped cream." Liza's mouth curls into a smile.

Harvey's dark brown eyes lock with Donna's. He's silent. She reads him. He's a bit overwhelmed.

"No, Harvey will have a toasted bagel with cream cheese and I…" her eyes scan the menu. "hmmm….Chocolate cake. And two coffees please."

"Great! Be right up!" says Liza before winking to Donna and leaving.

"Yes. I ordered for you. And yes, I thought you needed a bagel because it's your comfort food and you need to relax." She smiles at him knowingly.

He smiles, amused. "You see, it's this." He gestures between them. "This. You get me. I want you to know it. Yes, I really wanted to have…" He stops himself, visibly scared this word would make Liza appear again or something. "But when I woke up alone in my bed," he continues closing his eyes. "I missed you so much."

He opens his eyes after a moment and grabs her hand over the table, enclosing it in both of his hand and looking at her directly. His dark eyes only focused on her, scanning her. She feels so many things at once: happy, nervous, exhilarated… She can't breathe properly.

"After waking up alone… I understood. That I would want and NEED to be with you even if it would imply a lifetime of not having sex…"

"Harvey, in a way, isn't that what happened? We were together for twelve years but you had sex. Plenty." She feels like she should be honest too. "Just not with me."

"Believe me, if I could have choose, it would have been with you. Donna…I had to protect you from me, I was… not…"

"Stop!" She raises her palm. "I loved you anyway. I tried not to…" she hesitates. "But Harvey, this is irrelevant because you've changed. A lot. For the best. I mean, you are still the same good man I've always loved but now we can talk as we just did. And here we are."

He looks at her with a kind of quizzical expression.

"Loved?"

"And love. Present tense. Yes."

He smiles widely at her, his thumbs drawing small circles in her palms. "If I would ask you to sleepover when we go back to New York, would you?" She smiles back at him, she wants to say yes, she wants to say that's all she wants but she just smiles at him, rendered speechless by Harvey Specter who can't stop talking about his feelings. She'd never imagined this moment would come.

"By sleepover I mean sleep. Over. At my condo." says Harvey after a bit. "We don't need to have sex…like I told…"

"Harvey," she says hurriedly. "This is irrelevant because I like sex as much as you do."

* * *

They get home wet and freezing. She removed her drenched coat and immediately saw the post-it her mom left:

 _'We're at aunt's Lucille. Expecting you both around 5. Merry Christmas. –Mom'_

"They're gone?" asked Harvey shaking the snow off his coat before removing it.

"Yes. Alone. " She turns around. "We have two hours."

"Good. I should definitely check my emails," he says as his face flickers with a smile.

"There's a computer in my old room, how practical," she says as her heart starts beating more quickly. He approaches her and puts his hands on her cheeks.

"You're cold," he says. He pulls her face slowly toward his and kisses her. His mouth his warm and soft against hers and she can't feel the cold anymore. In fact she feels very warm. He hasn't shaved today so his stubble tickles her skin and she pulls him closer, her arms around his shoulders. In one swift motion, he takes her in his arms with the clear intention to carry her all the way up to her bedroom, but he struggles a bit in the middle of the stairs, making her laugh. They sit on the bed and she decides to stand between his legs, her hands on his shoulders. She plays with the collar of his shirt while he looks up at her with his brown eyes.

"My shirt is wet," he says.

She trails her hand down his arm, catching his wrist in her hand, delicately turning his hand over. She looks at his cuff attentively, her index tracing the initials embroidered on it. He reaches for her hand, his fingers closing around hers, his other hand on her waist.

"Donna," he begins. "I can't remember much from that night we slept together, but I woke up still wearing this shirt. Then I tried really hard to remember why I kept it…" He chuckles pulling her closer. "I remembered. You told me you wanted to see the initials on my cuffs while my hands touched you. That's how I knew you wanted more than sex from me…"

She feels ridiculous and starts laughing. "Oh dear god. I didn't know I was that cheesy when I drank champagne. Horny? Yes. But cheesy?" She laughs whole-heartedly. "But most importantly, Harvey: THIS shirt? It's been two days!" She makes a grimace.

"I washed it," he defends himself, rolling his eyes. "I just thought I needed to wear it again for good luck.

Donna starts unbuttoning his shirt and climbs on his lap. "No shirt tonight, mister."

She removes his shirt and then pushes him on the bed, kissing him passionately.

After a few minutes, clothes are scattered across the room. She is still on top of him and the kisses are getting more hurried as she softly moans against his mouth, his teeth grazing her lips. He feels how wet and warm her middle is, teasing against his erection.

He grabs her firmly and rolls her around, hovering above her as he leaves a kiss on her forehead.

"I love you," he says.

"I know," she replies.

He rests his forehead on hers, trying hard not to break into full laughter. "Donna, you can't quote Star Wars when we are having sex," he states matter-of-factly.

"Don't tell me that's not a turn on!" she retorts.

"Not when I'm your Leia!" he says with fake indignation.

"I wasn't even quoting Star Wars. It's just that we've always loved each other and well, now we know it. Harvey, it's just a fact." She kisses his neck and trails her fingertips down his torso all the way to his erection.

He closes his eyes and let his mouth crash on hers, passionate, his body enjoying her fingers wrapped around his length. Her hand moves steadily up and down, making the pressure build inside him until he breaks the kiss and draws back for a few seconds. Again, she reads him without saying a word. She guides him inside her, feeling his whole body molding against her with the first thrust. Her inner-walls are clenching around his length, her fingers are grasping the muscles of his arms and he can't even remember what to do with his hands. One hand is fisting her hair, the other is on her cheek and he hopes he still knows how to have sex properly. He's done it so many times before but never like this. It's like is life depends on it. It's like he's been waiting for this moment all his life.

He looks at her and again she reads him. "It's perfect Harvey. Don't stop, I'd kill you. Ooooh I…" He pushes harder feeling her ready to end this.

"I love you so much Donna…"

* * *

 ** _A few years from now…_**

"Grandma made French toasts!" She runs into the room, her little feet tapping against the wooden floor. She climbs in bed and tries to push his arm to lie down close to him.

He groans and opens one eye, looking at the clock. "Flo…Daddy needs to sleep."

She puts her little head on his pillow and even though his eyes are closed he feels her little breaths on his face. "Daddyyyy. It's Christmas." Her little voice is always like a ray of sunshine. Every morning.

"Right!" He opens his eyes. His three years old little girl his looking at him with bright eyes, her strawberry blonde hair sticking in all directions. "Tell me, did Santa leave gifts under the tree?"

"Plentyyyyyy!" She almost screams. She sits and pulls his hand. "Mommy is waiting for you daddy!"

"Okay then," he sits in bed and stretches his legs. He leaves a kiss on her daughter's head, and scoops her in his arms. "Mom always was the most patient woman I've ever met but…I never want her to wait for me ever again."


End file.
